Cathleen McGinley: This Endless Fight (Book 2)
by WhatWouldJackSparrowDo
Summary: Cathie did NOT sign up to be caught in the middle of a war between the first-years, and she DEFINITELY didn't sign up to be at risk of Petrification. Luckily she's got Neville and Daphne to help her when things get hard (or her Slytherin twin brother Cadence gets involved). An OC-in-the-Golden-Trio's-Year story, but much less cliche. Sequel to CM: Take a Stand, but can stand alone.
1. Chapter 1: Dismay in Empty Eyes

**AN: First off: you can read this without reading the first book, should be easy enough to follow, but I have a few things I like to mention like what I consider _really_ canon and what I don't, and the book/chapter title explanations. It's all in the beginning of the first book. That's all I'd recommend you read. Normally I try to update every other Monday. Unfortunately some jackass stole my laptop. I still have all my chapters that I already wrote because I'm paranoid and keep all my stuff on Google Docs, my USB, and two laptops. However I still don't have a laptop that is readily available to me. I'm using a friend's laptop right now. I had the opportunity to post this so I took it but I don't know when I'll get another chance to add more chapters. The shit that is my life should be less shitty by late February and hopefully it'll only take a week or two after that for me to get back into the swing of things, but neither of those are guaranteed time frames. For all I know it could be May before I even get the chance to post again. This may or may not reassure some of you but I am honestly 100% positive that I am going to finish this story so long as I have internet and access to the HP books and a freaking computer of some sort. I have been working on this story for over a year and I'm way too invested and attached to the twists and turns to give up on writing them now. I would never have posted this story to begin with if I didn't know that I was going to finish it because nothing drives me crazier than a really good story with no ending. It's the thing I hate the most about fanfiction because a lot of them don't ever get finished. Rest assured that I would _never_ do that to anyone.**

 **On another note, if you're from the last story, thank you for still reading even though I haven't updated since, like, early November as far as I can recall. And before anyone can call bullshit on the contents of this chapter the family in this story is based on an actual foster family that I lived with for four months. The overall theme song for this story is Better Days by Goo Goo Dolls. Also to new readers I make sure all chapters are 4k - 6k words long, except for the prologues because they're a lot harder to write. Most of the story isn't about Quentin at all and you won't find out who he is until the third/fourth book (I don't really have plans for that, it'll just happen when it happens but I know you'll find out in either 3 or 4) but _I_ know who he is and that makes his POV harder to write.**

 **One last thing, if you don't like this chapter please read the next one too because I mainly use prologues to provide foreshadowing and background information. So the rest of the chapters are a bit different.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter or the song listed below.**

 _Chapter 1: Dismay in Empty Eyes_

Date: Sat. - Sun., 12-13 August, 19?

Theme Song: Exodus by Evanescence

* * *

"Larry."

Quentin looked up at the sound of his alias. "Yes, Ms. Imogen?"

"Jeremy says you stole his flip-flops."

"I didn't! I – I swear!"

"He's lying, Mom," Jeremy assured Imogen, his eyes gleaming nastily. "I swear, I spotted my flip-flops in Larry's backpack."

Tutting, Imogen walked over to Larry's backpack and unzipped each pocket, one by one. When she reached the one in the front, she scowled and retrieved something. It was – _no, no, NO, I didn't put that there!_ – it was Jeremy's flip-flops.

"Larry Sidney Powell," Imogen snapped, pointing at him accusingly with the flip-flops. "How many times have I told you to stop stealing Jeremy's things?"

"I didn't do it!" Quentin pleaded desperately. "Please, please, Miss Imogen, believe me – Jeremy put them there! I don't even like flip-flops!"

"I don't know what your problem is with my son," Imogen went on, ignoring every word Quentin spoke. "What has he ever done to you?"

"He's been bullying me all the time, every day – and I didn't do it anyway!" It was a foolish thing to say. Quentin already knew from experience that Imogen would never believe the stray dog she had taken in over her own flesh and blood.

" _You ungrateful little_...!" Imogen took a deep breath, evidently restraining herself from saying or doing something that wouldn't end well. "Go to your room - _now_."

"But Mom," Jeremy protested, and Quentin wondered, briefly, how Imogen managed to miss the evil smirk that was barely being suppressed on her son's face, "Larry still hasn't done the dishes."

" _Yes I_ \- " Quentin instinctively glanced in the kitchen and bit his tongue, forcing the words down his throat. The dishes he had done half-an-hour before Imogen had come home from work had mysteriously found their way back into the sink. _Gee, wonder how that happened_.

" _Larry_." Imogen fixed Quentin with a very severe look. "Honestly, can't you get your lazy ass up and _do your chores_ for once in your life?"

"Sorry, Ms. Imogen," Quentin said miserably.

"Go do the dishes, and _then_ go to your room."

"Yes, Ms. Imogen."

"And apologize to my son!"

"Sorry, Jeremy."

Quentin walked into the kitchen, shoulders hunched, feet dragging, and Imogen went to her home office. Quentin stopped at the kitchen, and as he poured a bit of dish soap on the sponge, Jeremy tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry about that. My favorite episode of _Flintstones_ is on tonight, though." Jeremy grinned wickedly. "Just had to get you out of the way, since it's during your two-hour chunk of TV time."

"Could've asked," Quentin muttered. "It's not like I don't know that you'll always find a way to get what you want anyway. I might as well give you my TV time when you ask for it."

Jeremy snickered. "Yeah, but this way is more fun." He started walking away, but frowned, walked back, and whispered, "I bet your mom was a dumb bitch too."

" _Don't talk that way about my mother!_ " Quentin shouted, whirling around and raising whatever was in his hand to smack Jeremy with it - which wouldn't have done much good, anyway, since it was just a sponge.

It didn't matter. Imogen stormed out of her office and smacked Quentin in the back of the head. "Don't shout at my son," she hissed. She turned to Jeremy. "What were you saying about his mother, honey?"

Jeremy was cowering by the fridge, looking scared out of his mind ( _looking_ being the key word here). "I'm sorry, Mom," he whimpered. "I just told him that his mom wouldn't want him being mean to his foster family - I didn't think he'd blow up on me like that."

Imogen turned, furious. "Larry. No allowance. For another month." She shook her head. "I just don't know how to make you _behave_ …."

Quentin nodded, turned back to the dishes, and stared blankly at them for a few seconds. They had been planning to go to a bookstore that week. He hadn't gotten a new book in many, many months. Mainly due to Jeremy and his antics.

After the kitchen had cleared, Keith, the other foster kid, slipped inside, a worried look on his face. "I can buy you one, if you like," he whispered hesitantly. "I've probably got enough allowance for two books."

Quentin shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. Ms. Imogen would find out, and she wouldn't be very happy with you. It's not worth the trouble, for you and me both."

Keith nodded and headed to the family room, where Jeremy was watching TV. Quentin began washing the dishes.

He had been in this foster home since that fateful day six years ago, the day his mother had left him at an orphanage after his father tried to kill him. She had left him Stupefied in an alley, and he had wandered out and asked some random stranger who he was. The situation had escalated from there until he'd wound up in Imogen's foster home, having told people that he did remember his name, Larry Sidney Powell.

It was not a good place to be, suffice to say. For one, he lived amongst Muggles, nothing but them, and he could never breathe a word of the magic he had grown up with. That in and of itself was pure torture to Quentin, who had been raised to be proud of his heritage and utterly disdainful of the mundane folk that roamed the Earth.

But he got by. He did. He could live this way, even if it felt almost physically painful at times to disregard everything he had _known_ beyond a shadow of a doubt. But then there was the fact that not only his entire view of the world had shifted, or at least had to seem as though it had shifted for the sake of those around him, but also, his entire life was gone. His mother, his - his - _that_ _man_ , his pet snake Minga (he wondered what had become of her. Perhaps his mother was taking care of her now, in his memory), and all his friends, like Silvana.

But he got by with that, too. For he was a Pinnix, and he had always been taught that a Pinnix was nothing if not resilient and resourceful. And so he was exactly that, and he befriended the children at the local school, and made do with his teachers (for Imogen was certainly no parental figure to him). But then the bullying started - for what kind of eleven-year-old boy didn't know the symbols for less than and greater than, and what kind of eleven-year-old boy didn't know how to make purple, and what kind of eleven-year-old boy didn't even know who the _president_ was? He must be such an _idiot_. And it wasn't as though he got a hell of a lot of help at home if he didn't understand one of the topics he was currently studying at school. The only person willing to help him was Keith, whose existence Quentin thanked every deity he knew of for every day.

So he was bullied at school, he would probably never see anyone he'd known in his childhood ever again, and he lived in a world of people he had grown up to loathe and look down on, and that was bad enough as it was, but clearly the universe had other ideas, because it had decided to place him in the home of Imogen and Jeremy Wright, who lived to make his life as miserable as they could possibly make it. Jeremy was the real mastermind - drawing insulting pictures of his mother and sneaking them in, splashing water all over the bathroom sink after Quentin brushed his teeth and washed his face, spreading crumbs over the table after Quentin had cleaned it, and many other things. Sometimes Jeremy didn't even have to put that much effort in - he could just say that Quentin hadn't brushed his teeth, and most of the time, Imogen probably wouldn't even check to see if his toothbrush was wet before condemning him.

And yet, Quentin could not even fully hate Jeremy, because Imogen paid Quentin very little attention, but she did not pay Jeremy much more - in fact, the times when she did pay him more were generally when he was off reporting to her on Quentin's misdeeds. She spent so much of her time working to support the three children in her household that she left for Jeremy only as much as Silas had ever left for Quentin (although the time Silas left for him was mostly spent smacking him around for cheek and improperness). At least Quentin had always had his mother, though.

But Jeremy having a somewhat better reason for bullying him than 'feeling like it' did not make the bullying much if at all more bearable, and it certainly didn't excuse all the other ways Quentin's life was going to hell.

Quentin finished up the dishes, then went upstairs to his room, lie down on his bed, and thought for a few moments. Then he reread one of his books, and went to sleep when Jeremy and Keith came in to go to sleep, and for the thirteenth time in his life, he emptied his backpack, snatched the flashlight from atop the dresser, and slipped downstairs to the first floor and out through a window.

It was so easy that sometimes he wondered if Imogen knew and just let it happen, if maybe she disliked him so greatly that she would make no effort to stop him from running away. It had never mattered before; the past twelve times, Quentin had chickened out and been back in his bed by morning with none the wiser. _Not this time_ , he promised himself. _I'm seventeen. A life on the streets can't be too hard. And if I'm caught - well, it's not like life can get any worse anyway._

The first time he had run, he had walked maybe a few miles down the street when he realized he had no idea what he was doing, because it had mainly been a fleeting thought in the heat of the moment that somehow turned into something bigger. So he had gone home, and began preparing to run away. He slipped a butcher's knife from the sink once - he got in a lot of trouble for 'losing' it, but it had to be done; he would need something to defend himself with. He slowly, subtly gathered all the items he might need to make it far enough from Verityview, New Jersey that no one would recognize him. Finally, he'd slipped away when no one was paying attention to go bury everything in the woods behind the house, and he'd marked the spot with (of course) a very large X. But that wouldn't be enough, he knew, so he took the knife and cut through the bark of the surrounding trees to make them as distinctive as possible, and he did done this to every tree on the way back too. That night, he had run away, and then chickened out - but in case he ever changed his mind, he left the items in that same hiding spot, and had done so every time since as well.

So Quentin went into the forest, following the path, and dug up the items before stuffing them in his empty backpack. Then he started moving.

It was around two in the morning when he took a turn down an alley and stopped to think things through. He might die if he kept walking. He might. He probably would. There was a very slim chance of him surviving on the streets, in fact. He was very much not used to handling hardship - at least, not the kind that could kill a person, such as hunger or the cold. He was horribly ill-adapted to finding his own food and warmth.

...He could go back to Imogen.

It was a despicable thought, one that always occurred to him at this stage of the process, but it was true. He could go back to that awful place, where he would be well-fed and miserable.

Was he willing to risk his life to escape Jeremy and Imogen?

No.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Quentin turned around - and his eyes fixed on a horrible sight.

Silas's eyes narrowed suspiciously for a few moments. Then - " _YOU! Avada - Avada -_ " He bit his tongue, grimacing as Quentin watched in horrified bewilderment, frozen. Silas scowled at him. " _Finally_ ," he hissed. "How you eluded me so far, I do not know."

"Eluded you?" Quentin blurted out, because he had never been much good at holding his tongue. "I - I haven't - I've just been right here all along! Wait - how did you know I was alive?" His eyes flew wide open. " _Mother_! Did she - did she - ?"

"She died," Silas stated bluntly. "I killed her for her insolence. But… I made a mistake. Now the Pinnix family has no heir, and can produce no heir." He pulled something out of his robes and thrust it at Quentin. It was a wand. "Take this. I traveled far and wide to find it - if a Squib holds it, they will gain magic - although they will only be able to produce magic from this wand. It will not make you a wizard, exactly; you will not be the heir, because Squibs cannot be the heirs to magical bloodlines, so you can never access the Pinnix Gringotts bank account, and you will only produce magical children (the first-born will become the new heir after I die) if you reproduce with a witch."

Quentin stared at him for a few moments. "You… you _killed_ her," he whispered hoarsely, tears forming in his eyes. "You _killed_ her - _you killed my mother_ \- "

"She was disobedient," Silas pointed out dismissively. "She had it coming."

Quentin punched him. "I don't want _anything_ from you," he snarled, shaking. "Get out of my life and crawl back into the hole where you came from."

" _Don't be an idiot, Quentin_ ," Silas bit out, holding his bleeding nose with one hand. Irritable, he took his own wand and waved it over the nose, muttering, " _Episkey_." The nose fixed itself, and Silas wiped the blood off of his lip before catching Quentin's hand in his own and forcing the wand into it.

" _No_ ," Quentin repeated forcefully, immediately dropping the wand and kicking it as far as he could. "I want nothing to do with you."

" _You ungrateful little…!_ " Silas grabbed his shoulder, but Quentin whirled around, lunged for his neck and slammed him against a wall, twice, as hard as he could.

" _Leave. Me. Alone_ ," Quentin growled. He released the man and took off down the street before his father could recover and follow.

He managed to make it home by four, by some miracle. He buried his things and he slipped into bed, his heart heavy.

He supposed he had really already known that his mother was dead - the whole situation had been bound to draw suspicion from Silas, and there was no way Silas would let a witness live. His parents had married purely for political reasons - his mother had been a beautiful, elegant, sophisticated lady, not to mention she had been _filthy rich_ , and Silas was very much a classic Pureblood aristocrat, so _technically_ they were a very good match. But they had never worked well together at all - their opinions differed on every subject. While Silas had typical Pureblood ideals, his mother's had always been very offbeat. Not to mention their personalities had never meshed either.

So in other words, there would have been no real emotional attachment or sentimentality stopping Silas from disposing of the one person who had foiled his plans, and Quentin was sure that somewhere, deep down, he had already realized that and expected his mother to be dead. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to find out he was right.

* * *

Quentin went about his business as usual the next day, albeit more agitated than usual. It was a perfectly normal day otherwise for everyone else.

Right up until _it_ happened.

Jeremy had slipped some clean dishes back in the sink again, so now Quentin had to wash them again, lest he feel Imogen's wrath. Smirking, Jeremy leaned against the fridge right next to the sink and watched him triumphantly. "What did I do to you now, Jeremy?" Quentin asked wearily. "What was the reason today?"

Jeremy cackled. "Didn't have one. I was just bored."

"You're _always_ bored," Quentin growled. His patience had been dwindling quickly throughout the day, and was running out. "Don't you have any entertainment apart from bothering me?"

"But you're the most fun," Jeremy mocked. "It's just so _easy_. So, which of your parents did you get that from?"

"Bugger off, Jeremy," Quentin bit out. "I'm not in the mood."

"I bet your mom was _easy_ , too - which is why you're such a bastard."

Jeremy should never have said that. Nor should he have chosen a knife as one of the dishes to put back in the sink. Because Quentin had overlooked something; by touching the wand his father had given him, however briefly, he had gained magic, and though he could only intentionally use magic with the wand, that didn't eliminate accidental magic. Quentin watched in horror as the knife flew at Jeremy, as Jeremy ducked, as the knife sailed right over Jeremy's head and wedged itself into someone else's chest.

He barely registered Jeremy's scream as the knife removed itself from Keith and dove into Jeremy instead.

"... _Keith_ ," Quentin whispered hoarsely. The teen in question looked at him in shock and horror as he fell backwards. " _Keith_!" Quentin lunged forward and fell to his knees, snatching the dish rag and pressing it to Keith's wound. "It's alright, it's alright, you'll be fine," he babbled, panicked. Blood seeped out of the wound, soaking the dish rag until it was a dull shade of red. He put two fingers to Keith's pulse and felt it slowing quickly, and Quentin's heart pounded faster and faster. "Don't," he begged desperately. "Please, don't - don't die, you can't, you _can't_ …."

It was no use. The light was fading from Keith's eyes - and Quentin realized absently that Jeremy had screamed and someone must have heard and would surely be rushing towards the scene and immediately calling the police to have them haul Quentin to prison for murder. Unless… Unless he walked away, took his bag of emergency-running-away supplies and ran, and left Keith to die. Except that Keith would die anyway. So either Keith died and Quentin went to jail, or Keith died and Quentin got away.

Perhaps, had he not been a Pinnix, had he not been raised to be selfish and make these choices, he would have remained there, refusing to leave Keith's side due to sentimentality. But Quentin shoved his pain down to the deepest, darkest areas of his mind and rose from the kitchen floor before exiting through the back door and dashing through the woods. He made his way to the X and frowned. Atop the X was a wand and a note. Quentin picked the note up. It read, _For when you change your mind. - Silas_

In a fit of rage and misery, he tore the note to shreds and picked up the wand. For a moment, he held it tightly in both fists, preparing to snap it. _But… I'm going to be on the road. All alone. With just a butcher's knife for protection. A wand might not be much better, but - I remember at least a few spells._ Sighing, he pocketed the wand instead, retrieved the other things, and started walking.


	2. Chapter 2: So Much to See

**Hey, you decided to keep reading! _Victory is mine_. *coughs* Anyway, a bit of information on the McGinley family: The main character is Cathie. She has a twin brother named Cadence who has been bullying her since they were seven and their father walked out, leaving Cadence somehow convinced it was her fault. They have an older sister named Danica and their mother is Leanne. Leanne's sister is Jamie O'Rourk, whose husband died in the military just after Cathie and Cadence were born but that doesn't really come up much. Jamie's sons are Seamus, who is older than Danica, Tierney, who is between Danica and the twins, and Niall, who is between Tierney and the twins. Tierney typically spends a lot (read: almost all) of his time with the McGinley's and he doesn't ever really _say_ it but it's generally accepted that he's closer to the McGinleys than the O'Rourks. Also he's gay but that isn't really important either. And the McGinleys have thirteen cats. And I think that's everything, but let me know if you think I left something out. I do not own Harry Potter or the song listed below.**

 _Chapter 2: So Much to See_

Date: Sun-Mon, 21-22 June, 1992

Theme Song: All Star by Smash Mouth

* * *

"Cathie! Cathie, dear, are you all packed?"

Cathie looked up at the sound of her name. "Almost, Aunt Jamie!" she called. She looked around the guest bedroom one more time. "That's it, right?" she muttered to herself, frowning. Then she remembered something. "Oh - my French textbook! Where'd I leave that thing…?" She darted about the room, peering at spots like under the bed and behind the dresser before finally finding her book inside the pillowcase on the bed. Wondering absently how she had managed to leave her things in such bizarre places, she put the book safely in her backpack, then equipped her backpack and suitcase and dashed out of the bedroom, through a hall and down a staircase, arriving a few feet in front of her Aunt Jamie. "All done," she announced.

"Excellent," Aunt Jamie commented. "So… may I ask what happened to that beautiful cat of yours?"

"...Wait - _Ninja_!" Cathie promptly dropped her things at her laughing aunt's feet and ran back to the bedroom upstairs, wincing at the irritated expression on Ninja's face. "Oh, quiet, you," she scolded. "I could just leave you here, you know that?" She could have sworn the insufferable feline was smirking knowingly at her. Scowling, Cathie picked up the cage and made her way back to her aunt, who had a similar expression to Ninja's. "Right, _now_ I'm done," Cathie corrected herself.

Aunt Jamie nodded. "I'll just have to mail the other ten things you've forgotten to your new home in England," she teased.

Cathie grimaced. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Well, there's some leftover pizza from last night in the fridge, so you can help yourself. I have to go check on your brother - he doesn't normally take this long packing, so I imagine he's on his laptop again. Honestly, I keep telling your mother that she needs to start taking that thing from him. She doesn't keep nearly as tight a leash as she should on that child…." She trotted upstairs.

"You have no idea," Cathie muttered once her aunt was out of earshot. She headed to the kitchen, where the two brothers of her cousin Tierney (who was really more like her older brother) were chatting over pizza. They looked up at her entrance. Seamus, the eldest of the three, promptly began pretending she didn't exist. Niall, the youngest, gave her a nod of acknowledgement. This was quite possibly one of the friendliest greetings she had ever received from him - and the same could be said for Seamus, for that matter.

Speaking of which, since she was moving that day anyway, she might as well ask…. "So why do you not hate me anymore? Ever since I came back from, er, that boarding school, you've been a _lot_ friendlier."

Niall tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful for a few moments, before shrugging. "You're more confident now, I think," he mused. "You were always a bit of a wimp."

"Was not!"

"Was t-"

"I'm nipping this in the bud right now," Seamus asserted firmly.

"...Was too." Seamus promptly pulled a Nerf gun out of nowhere and shot the side of Niall's head. " _Ow_! That hurt, you idiot!" Seamus shrugged. Niall scowled at him for a few moments before returning his attention to Cathie. "...So, you actually remember everything this time?"

Cathie shrugged. "Hell if I know. Honestly, even if I thought I'd forgotten something, there's every possibility that it's actually already tucked away somewhere in my backpack or my suitcase."

"Here, let me look," Niall offered. "I might notice if something's missing even if you don't."

"Okay, thanks." Surprised and grateful, Cathie handed over her bags.

He went through her things with Seamus oh-so-subtly peering over his shoulder, and after finishing with her suitcase, fixed her with an incredulous stare. "Is Ninja supposed to live off of dust particles?"

"Ack - the food! Oh, I always forget the food," Cathie complained, smacking herself in the forehead.

"And I suppose she'll be stuck drinking puddles off of the floor," Seamus put in mockingly.

Cathie frowned. "You two sound just like Tierney and my mom."

"Please, don't associate me with _those_ hooligans," Tierney requested cheekily as he strolled into the kitchen and sat in the chair next to Seamus. Seamus immediately scowled and refused to look at his younger brother. Cathie winced. That had been going on for quite a few weeks - ever since Tierney had graduated from college five years earlier than the norm.

When Cathie's mom had first decided to homeschool her children (not that Cathie could remember that - she had only been three), the nine-year-old Tierney had taken an interest in the method Cathie's mom was using - the 'unschooling' method, in which children were given the freedom to choose when and what they learned, and subsequently enjoyed learning and actively sought it out. Tierney had always enjoyed learning - just not _school_ , exactly. He begged Aunt Jamie to let him try homeschooling, but Aunt Jamie had always been a conformist, and had therefore been much more inclined to trust the traditional option of public school rather than the unschooling method.

Furious with his mother, fourth-grade Tierney, in typical Tierney fashion, had promptly decided to take the extreme route and began studying so much he seemed to eat, drink and breathe textbooks. His photographic memory helped quite a bit. By the end of that school year, he had convinced a middle school teacher to give him a test meant for seventh-graders and, well, let's just say his mom had been suitably convinced. He began homeschooling the following year, and his Aunt Leanne was only too happy to assist him in building an advanced curriculum that was based on his learning pace rather than any set time measurement. When he was thirteen, he took the SATs, and with a score that rivaled that of the average eighteen-year-old, he started college.

Seamus had never quite gotten over his bitterness at being a high school freshman while his younger brother was a college freshman, but he had been especially bitter since Tierney's graduation.

Niall was also a little bitter, but for entirely different reasons. Tierney had chosen his major, computer engineering, so that he could one day join his Aunt Leanne's company. Now that his Aunt Leanne was moving to England and had decided to branch out and give her company some roots in England too, Tierney had opted to follow her and help her. Following this decision were several tense, stressful weeks that Cathie had luckily skipped by being at Hogwarts. In the end, Aunt Jamie had reluctantly, grudgingly conceded to support Tierney's emancipation petition. Niall had not approved quite so much, being rather attached to his older brother. Seeing someone mostly only at night was, after all, much different from living across an ocean from them.

Cathie's twin brother and arch nemesis Cadence chose that moment to trudge into the kitchen, his packed suitcase rolling across the floor behind him. "If you're going to eat, you ought to do it now," he informed Cathie and Tierney. "Mom and Danica will be here in an hour, and they're running late, so we'll have to be waiting outside for them and jump right in the car." Danica was Cathie's and Cadence's older sister.

"Alright then, I'll - wait - that's right, the food and dishes!" Cathie dashed out of the kitchen without a backwards glance and sped back to the guest bedroom before opening the second drawer on the left on the desk and pulling the dishes and cat food out. _Must've forgotten to check the desk_ , she thought. She did a quick search of the rest of the drawers to make sure she got everything, and discovered her laptop charger in one drawer and a mug in another. She pulled out the mug and inspected it, truly bewildered. She knew she recognized the mug - it was her favorite, the one she always used for tea at home… but she didn't understand why she had chosen to bring it along when Aunt Jamie had invited her and Cadence to spend their last week in America at her house.

Shrugging, she made her way downstairs to where two empty paper plates sat on the table and one paper plate sat with a slice of pizza on it. Tierney, Cadence, and Niall were gone; only Seamus remained, washing dishes. "Is that yours?" Cathie asked.

She could practically hear Seamus's eyes rolling. "No, doofus, I already ate. Cadence left that for you."

Cathie blinked. "...Oh." Shrugging again, she sat down and started eating.

Forty-five minutes later, Cathie, Cadence, Tierney, Seamus, Niall, and Aunt Jamie were gathered on the front lawn, awaiting Danica and Cathie's mom's arrival. Danica had stayed behind to help her mother pack. It wasn't too long before they got there - Danica driving a van, her mother driving a regular car. The van was empty save for Danica; the other car, however, was stuffed with luggage, save for an empty passenger seat. Aunt Jamie and her family would be accompanying them to the airport; Aunt Jamie used to borrow the van whenever she needed to transport more than just her family, so Cathie's mom was simply leaving it behind for her, and Danica's car would be left for Niall when he was able to drive it in a couple of years.

Aunt Jamie nodded to them all, then headed to Cathie's mom's car and slipped into the passenger seat. The younger generation made their way over to the van. Seamus automatically went into the passenger seat of that car, and Cadence sat in the seat behind him. Cathie, Tierney and Niall slipped into the back, with Niall directly behind Cadence, Tierney on his left, and Cathie on _his_ left. Cathie snickered at the tower of twelve cat cages in the trunk, which was visible from her seat. The second they were all buckled in, Danica started driving. "So, how late are we?" Cadence asked cheekily.

Cathie saw Danica grimace into the rearview mirror. "Half-an-hour," she admitted.

"Oh, we're _so_ not making this flight," Tierney groaned. "How'd that happen?" The car came up to a red light. Danica took the opportunity to show off her forearm, which was lined with bright red scratches. "How'd _that_ happen?" Tierney demanded as everyone stared in disturbed amazement.

"I sort of tripped over Anubis and grabbed Thor's tail to stop myself from falling," Danica admitted. Anubis and Thor were two of the cats. "Suffice to say he didn't appreciate it much. Anyway, Mom and I had to stop the bleeding before we could leave."

The light turned green just then, and they started moving. "Alright, Danica, you better speed if we want to get there anywhere near on time," Cathie urged. Danica, of course, rolled her eyes and ignored her.

But then something strange happened - lights started turning green as they arrived at them, and slow cars would drift to another lane or suddenly speed up. And though she had never believed in such things, Cathie had to wonder for a moment if perhaps it was fate at work.

They reached the airport only eighteen minutes late, by some miracle, and quickly unloaded as fast as they could. Then Aunt Jamie turned and hugged Tierney tightly, smiling sadly, and hugged Cathie's mom, too, and then the rest of them. The kids exchanged hugs as well. Cathie was a bit surprised to receive hugs from Niall and even Seamus, but then again, they probably wouldn't see each other for another year, so it made some sense.

Then Aunt Jamie and Seamus drove the cars away, with Niall waving goodbye from the passenger's seat in Seamus's car. Cathie's mom led Danica, Tierney, Cadence and Cathie away through the airport.

* * *

The next morning, when Cathie awoke, she wondered for a moment why she was sleeping on an air mattress instead of a bed. Then she remembered; she was in her new home in England. She was excited for a moment; then she recalled the big pile of work inhabiting the kitchen and grimaced. She got out of bed and frowned in bewilderment. The air mattresses had been set up in the living room, so that was where Cathie was currently standing. To her utmost dumbfoundment, she was standing in a perfectly functional living room, equipped with a couch, a TV, an array of video games surrounding the SNES, and all sorts of things that a proper living room ought to contain. Only, when she went to sleep, it had been very, very far from a proper living room.

"G'morning," Tierney mumbled from his place on another air mattress. He wasn't under covers or on a pillow or anything, just splayed across it in his regular clothes. He rolled over onto his back and stretched. "Are we the last ones up?"

Cathie looked around and saw that the other three air mattresses were empty. "I suppose so. How did all _this_ happen?"

He sat up and frowned. "I… have no idea."

"Oh, that was me." Cathie's mom walked out of the kitchen, half-full cup of coffee at hand. "I decided to stay up and fix it all up - looks rather nice, don't you think?"

"But… you must be _exhausted_!" Cathie exclaimed.

Her mom simply shrugged. "It really wasn't as hard as it looks." Before Cathie could question her further, she continued, "So, we ought to plan out this summer, because you and Cadence are both very intent on having a large amount of friends visit us, and also on visiting a large number of friends."

"Fred and George said that Ron plans on having Harry over in August and just keeping him until school starts," Cathie informed her. "So they suggested I visit them then and stay till school as well."

"That'd work for you, Mom," Cadence put in as he walked over. "Draco's family already offered to bring me."

"That's fine then," Cathie's mom agreed. "What about your other friends? There's a Daphne, isn't there, that you're both friends with? How should we plan that out?"

"We are _not_ spending time with her together!" Cathie and Cadence stated firmly in unison, so horrified by the thought that they didn't even scowl at each other afterwards.

"Okay, okay!" Cathie's mom held her hands up. "Here's an idea; Cadence, you can go to your friend Theo's house and Daphne will come here while you're gone, and then Cathie, when Cadence comes home, you can go to Neville's house while Daphne stays here."

"I was actually thinking Neville would come over at the same time as Daphne," Cathie suggested. "And then when Cadence comes home, Neville would just go home then."

"I see. Then - let me think - was there another friend whose house you were invited to?"

"Katie wanted me to come over for a week or two."

"Alright, so here's how this summer will go; Cadence, you can leave on the twenty-eighth to Blaise's house for a week like he wanted you to, and Daphne can come over and spend that week with Cathie, and Cathie, you can invite Neville over for that week too, and then you can go to Katie's for a week or two when Cadence comes home and Neville leaves, and then when Daphne leaves - not immediately after, but at some point afterwards - Cadence, you'll go to Draco's, and Cathie, you'll go to Fred and George's. Sound good?"

"Perfect," Cadence declared.

"Same here - oh, and Lee's having a party on the tenth of July. He has one every year; his parents don't like him to have people over, so they agreed to let him have a bunch over for one day."

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem; I imagine you'll be free by then."

Cathie counted the days in her head. "No, I'd still be at Katie's, but that works anyway since she's going to the party as well."

"Fine by me," Cathie's mom agreed. "Now, why don't you go find Danica, and the three of you can go introduce yourselves to our new neighbors?"

A grin threatened to split Cathie's in half. "Of course, of course," she said, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Someone say my name?" Danica wandered into the living room.

"Yeah - you should go take Cathie and Cadence to introduce yourselves to our neighbors," Cathie's mom repeated.

"Oh, yeah," Danica recalled - Cathie's mom had informed them all that they ought to do this back when they had been preparing for the move.

"You three have your cover story ready?" The three kids nodded. "Excellent. Tierney, how about we go see about purchasing a building to host my business?"

Danica led Cathie and Cadence out of the house. "Well then," Danica mused, "where should we start introducing ourselves, Cathie?"

Cathie grinned. "How about Number Four? Always like the number four. I'm sure Cadence likes it too - it represents the number of brain cells he has."

"More than you, at least," Cadence shot back.

They walked over, and Danica knocked on the front door. A thin blonde woman answered the door.

"Hello, ma'am," Danica greeted the woman politely. "My siblings and I just moved from America into the house over there - " she gestured to their new home - "and we're introducing ourselves to all our new neighbors. My name is Danica, this is Cadence, and this is Cathie."

"I'm Mrs. Dursley," the woman said. She looked thoughtfully at Cathie and Cadence. "Oh, you two must be about the same age as my boy - Dudley!" She turned back towards the inside of the house. "Dudley, come meet our new neighbors!"

Harry certainly hadn't exaggerated when he told her how very large his cousin was. "Um, hi," Cathie said to him uncertainly. "I'm Cathie, and this is my brother Cadence and my sister Danica."

"Hello," Dudley responded, shaking all of their hands in turn. He turned to his mother. "Mum, Harry's only just finished with the dishes."

"There were a lot of dishes," a very familiar voice mumbled. Cathie looked over Dudley's shoulder and spotted a pair of quickly widening emerald eyes.

She smiled brightly, feigning surprise. "Oh - Harry!" she exclaimed. "Don't I know you? Yes, yes, that's right - I met you in a zoo when I was on vacation last year in June."

Mrs. Dursley and Dudley turned to look at Harry in shock, and he hastily composed himself. "Yes - uh - yes, I remember - it's good to see you again, Cathie."

"Yes, and you too." Cathie turned to Mrs. Dursley. "Mrs. Dursley, would it be alright if Harry came over to my house? My mom's not home right now - she's out looking at properties for her business, you see, she has a very large company, and we came to England so that she could expand the business - but anyway, Danica's of age, she can keep us out of trouble."

"Oh - um - " Mrs. Dursley seemed terribly conflicted. On the one hand, from Harry's descriptions of her, Cathie was sure she didn't want to let Harry go have fun and would rather keep him cooped up working all day. On the other hand, Cathie had slipped her mother's wealth and importance into the conversation, and Cathie could also infer from Harry's descriptions that Mrs. Dursley would be delighted to get into Cathie's mom's good graces, even if it had to be through Harry's happiness. Finally - as Cathie had hoped and suspected she would - Mrs. Dursley conceded, "Yes, that would be lovely."

"Oh, thank you very much!" Cathie beamed. And to reward this good behavior - because all humans were just dogs waiting to be trained in her mind - she added, "And perhaps, later this week, your family would join us for dinner? I'm sure Mom would love to meet our new neighbors."

Mrs. Dursley beamed back. "Oh, of course, dear, we would be delighted."

"Excellent. Come on, Harry, let's catch up. It was wonderful meeting you, Mrs. Dursley, Dudley!"

"And you, dear."

Dudley nodded mutely, seemingly still in shock. Danica led Cathie, Cadence and Harry away towards their new house.

"Cathie," Harry breathed, looking at her in awe, "when you said you were going to come move to Privet Drive, I thought you were _joking_."

"Well, it's the best option for both me and Cadence," Cathie reasoned, "because Cadence doesn't have to set up his little kingdom of bullies, it's already set up for him, and he just has to befriend your cousin."

"Ha, ha," Cadence retorted dryly. "I'm going to go work on my homework, Danica, there are too many Gryffindors here." He picked up speed as he headed to the house and away from them, leaving his two sisters rolling their eyes.

"Is he normally so pleasant?" Harry asked curiously. "Back at Hogwarts, you're always at each other's throats when you're together."

"Danica's presence usually tames us a bit," Cathie admitted. "So, how's your summer been?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I'm living with Dursleys, so not very good."

Cathie grimaced. "Yeah, I suppose you can't really have a good summer with relatives like yours. But seeing as my mom's rich and high-class, I don't think they'll have a problem with you hanging out at my house."

They reached the house, and Cathie headed to the kitchen. "Hungry?" she asked as she moved to open the fridge. "I am - I haven't had breakfast yet - " She paused, frowning at the contents of the fridge. Or, rather, lack thereof. "...Never mind, it just occurred to me that we only moved in last night and don't have any food." She turned to Danica, who was watching her with a raised eyebrow. "Hey Danica, can we go shopping for groceries?"

Danica snorted. "We didn't ask his aunt for permission to bring him anywhere," she pointed out. "Just to have him come over - so unless you want to leave him here while we go out…."

"Oh, they won't mind," Harry assured her. "Trust me, they'd be thrilled if you just never sent me back."

Danica gave him a long look through narrowed eyes, as if trying to determine whether or not he was serious. "...Well, regardless, it wouldn't be very polite," she settled for eventually. "How about I just order takeout? Is that okay with you two?"

"Takeout works," Cathie agreed, only slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be cooking.

Harry glanced between the two of them uncertainly. "Uh… I mean - you don't have to go to any expense for _me_ ," he said hesitantly. "I can just go home if you like - "

"No, no, no," Danica interrupted exasperatedly. "None of that nonsense. I already have to live with two of the most melodramatic preteens I've ever met. Don't be another one. _Please_."

"I am not melodramatic!" Cathie huffed, and so did Cadence as he rejoined them, in perfect sync.

"You _are too_ melodramatic," they taunted each other, and with great frustration, settled for glaring silently, lest they accidentally synchronize once more.

"Do they do this often?" Harry asked Danica, wide-eyed. "I've only ever seen Fred and George - my friend's older brothers, they're identical twins - I've only ever seen them do that, and it's usually on purpose."

"Oh, you'll get used to this," Danica assured him. "They always do this when they're offended or mocking each other. I've never met such a dysfunctional pair of siblings, let alone _twins_."

"It's his fault," Cathie accused immediately, "for being a Slytherin."

"No, it's _your_ fault for being a Gryffindor! And - And anyway - what about Daphne, huh? You're great friends with her?"

"Well, the difference there is that she's not a bi-"

Danica sighed and half-heartedly covered Harry's ears, and in a voice that implied she really didn't expect anything to come of this, she intoned exasperatedly, " _Language_."


	3. Chapter 3: You Can Always Be Found

**OH MY GOD, I EXIST, HOLY CRAP GUYS.**

 **I can't apologize enough for the long wait, although at least I gave you warning this time. I still can't promise regular updates until about halfway through June (long story short, I'm sort of testing out of two grades' worth of classes to graduate high school this year, it's complicated) but I will do my best to actually put SOMETHING up here. I've got the next chapter written and I'm working on chapter five right now. Honestly this story and the first third of the next shouldn't be too time-consuming for me since they've been very thoroughly outlined in my notes but outlining isn't the same as writing so I can't guarantee that it'll be easy as pie and updated once a week or anything. I also have lots and lots of other crap going on in my life right now so as far as my priorities are concerned, this has shifted about five spots down in the past few months. But like I said last time this still IS a priority for me because even if it wasn't for the fact that I would feel like a horrible person for not updating I could never stand putting so much effort into a series and then letting all my ideas rot. Right now the story's a little bit bland because the main character is twelve but I should probably warn you now that shit gets serious next year, death and panic attacks and stuff happen, and also torture at some point (it isn't narrated, but it is described first-hand and I don't go easy on the descriptions of the scars either).**

 **So now that THAT'S out of the way..., on with the story?**

 **P.S. If anyone's wondering why Harry didn't ask Cathie to ask Fred and George why Ron wasn't sending him any letters, Harry assumed they weren't sending him letters because they were busy or something (pg. 18, CoS, when he's talking to Dobby, it looks like that's what he's about to say, at least to me; "Friends who don't even** _ **write**_ **to Harry Potter?" "I expect they've just been - ").**

 _Chapter 3: You Can Always Be Found_

Date: Sun. - Mon., August 2-3, 1992

Theme Song: Home by Phillip Phillips

* * *

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Cathie?"

"...Mom, do you know why there are bars on Harry's window?"

Cathie's mother closed the book she was reading and joined her in peering out of their own window. "Um," she commented oh-so-eloquently. "Nope, no clue."

"Should I go ask?"

Her mother turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Good point."

"You could always just invite Harry over here and then ask _him_ ," her mother suggested.

Cathie snapped her fingers. "Great idea! Thanks, Mom!" She slipped some sandals on and dashed out of the house and down the street before knocking on the door to Number 4.

Mr. Dursley opened the door. "Oh, hello, Miss McGinley," he greeted her.

"Hello Mr. Dursley. I was wondering if Harry could come over today?"

He pursed his lips. "Sorry, dear, Harry is grounded."

 _Grounded?_ "Oh, um, okay. May I ask for how long?"

"Indefinitely."

 _Indefinitely?!_ "Oh, um, I see. Well, thank you for informing me, Mr. Dursley. I'll be on my way."

After exchanging polite goodbyes, Cathie turned away from Number 4 and headed back home. When she entered, her mother looked up from her book. "Well?"

"He's grounded."

"Grounded? For how long?"

"Indefinitely."

" _Indefinitely?_ What does _that_ mean?"

"I don't know!" Cathie raised her hands, emphasizing her confusion. "I just know that he's grounded and Mr. Dursley said it's indefinite."

Her mother frowned, evidently bewildered. "I... see. Um. Maybe we - "

Just then the phone rang, interrupting her. "I'll get it!" Tierney shouted from down the hall connected to the living room.

Her mother continued. "Like I was saying, maybe we could invite the Dursleys over and I can ask why he's grounded. It'd sound better coming - "

"Cathie! It's for you!"

"Sorry, I'll be right back." Cathie got up and headed for the phone, wondering who it was. Both Hermione and Lee had her number, and had called her a few times over the summer. Neville and Daphne couldn't, unfortunately, because they didn't have phones, but apparently Fred and George's father was obsessed with Muggle technology and happened to own a phone, so once they had been disabused of the notion that shouting into the phone would do anything more than break her ears, they had grown fluent in phone usage.

Cathie took the phone from Tierney and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Cathie."

"Hi, Fred."

"Harry hasn't answered any of Ron's letters since leaving Hogwarts, and Hermione wrote and said he hasn't answered any of hers either, so George and I figured we would just kidnap him tonight. Since you'll be coming here in a few days anyway, mind if we just kidnap you too and kill two birds with one stone?"

"Considering Harry's grounded indefinitely according to his uncle, kidnap might actually be the best course of action. One second, let me ask my mom." She pulled the phone away and called, "Mom, can Fred and George kidnap me tonight?"

"...Um, I guess? As long as you think you can pack that fast!"

"Cool, thanks!" Cathie put the phone to her ear once more. "So Mom says it's alright for you to kidnap me. What time d'you think you'll get here?"

"I dunno, maybe around two or three in the morning? Just be ready at two. We'll be the ones in the flying blue car. Don't worry, I'll get out and knock when we get there, just be near the front door. See you soon!"

With that, he hung up, leaving Cathie to wonder what it was he meant by flying blue car and hoping very much that it wasn't actually a flying blue car.

* * *

Well, it was a blue car, she could see that much. And the only passengers, as far as she could tell, were Fred, George, and Ron.

"Are _you_ driving that thing?" she demanded as she carried her suitcase and Ninja's cage to the trunk of the car.

"Yeah, why?"

"I didn't know you could drive," Cathie mused, surprised.

He shrugged. "Not much to it, really."

Cathie grimaced, continuing to hope that the car didn't fly as she slipped into the backseat. "Hey Ron," she greeted her classmate. "How's your summer been?"

"Not bad, yours?"

"Mine's been good, so f- _whoa_ ," she gasped as the car lifted into the sky. "Fred, I thought you were kidding when you said it flew! Where did you three get your hands on a _flying car_?"

"It's Dad's," Ron explained. "He got it so that he could, well, basically experiment on it."

"Lovely, so I'm riding in an experimentation," Cathie breathed.

"Don't worry, it's totally safe," Ron reassured her. "We flew all the way here in it. He knows lots about cars - very interested in Muggle things."

They came to a stop in midair. "Bars on the window," George commented, and Cathie could practically hear him grimacing in dismay. "Bit more than we bargained for, but I'm sure we'll figure something out. Ron, wake him up, would you?"

Ron rolled down his window and rattled the bars a bit, until Cathie spotted Harry walk over to the window and open it. " _Ron_!" came the hushed exclamation. "Ron - how did you - what the - ?" He stared at the display before him in bemused awe.

"All right, Harry?" George asked.

"What's been going on?" Ron demanded. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles - "

"It wasn't me - and how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry," Ron clarified, and continued on with his rant. "You _know_ we're not supposed to do spells outside of school - "

"You should talk," Harry interrupted pointedly.

"He's got a point," Cathie snickered. "Now can the two of you save this for later? Only the longer we hover here, the more likely someone finds us, and then we're _all_ in trouble for underage magic in front of Muggles."

"Alright," Harry agreed, "just tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'll think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so - "

"Stop gibbering," Ron sighed exasperatedly. "We've come to take you home with us."

"But you can't magic me out either - "

"We don't need to," Ron retorted, nodding towards Fred and George with a cheeky grin. "You forget who I've got with me."

"Tie that around the bars," Fred ordered, pulling a rope out of the glove compartment and thrusting one end at Harry.

He passed the other end to the backseat. Ron took it from him, leaned out of the window, and tied it to something Cathie couldn't see as Harry informed them all grimly, "If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead."

"Don't worry, and stand back," Fred said, and he revved up the car until finally Cathie heard crunching and peered out of Ron's window to see the bars fall down past her line of sight. For one horrible moment, she had the bizarre fear that the weight of the bars would yank the car down with them. It didn't. She didn't even notice when they stopped falling. She mentally shook her head at herself.

"Get in," Ron told Harry."

"But all my Hogwarts stuff - my wand - my broomstick - "

"Where is it?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room - "

"No problem," George interjected cheerfully. He and Fred clambered out of the car and into Harry's bedroom before picking the lock on the bedroom door while Cathie stared.

"I'd forgotten they could do such weird things," she remarked. "That's right, they taught me that last year."

"So how is it, anyway?" Ron inquired. "Being their 'protege.'"

"'Protege?'"

"That's what they've been calling you." Harry handed a small pile of things to Ron, who accepted it and tucked it away on the floor.

Cathie rolled her eyes. "I see. Well, it's interesting, to say the least. Mostly they've been relaying their knowledge of potions to me - George said I'm better at potions now than he and Lee were at my age, so I think they're hoping I'll be better than them eventually and I can take over as the potion-maker of the group."

"Is there, like, a hierarchy?" Ron raised an eyebrow, and Cathie opened her mouth to respond, but then Harry returned with Fred and George, and the five of them got Harry's trunk through the window and nestled between Cathie's knees in no time. Fred and George crawled past her and Ron into the front seat, and Harry made his way onto the windowsill, and Hedwig hooted particularly loudly, and -

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!" Harry cried in alarm, and vanished back into his room. Panicked, Cathie shoved the trunk over to Ron's side and dove onto the floor of the car.

"Mr. Dursley can't see me in your car," she hissed in response to Ron's confused look. "He won't let me spend time with Harry next summer if he does."

Cathie sat, crouched uncomfortably in the small space, waiting for the car to start moving. After a few moments, she saw Ron hurriedly accept something from Harry. It turned out to be Hedwig's cage, which he placed on Cathie's seat. Then Cathie heard a loud, furious roar from Harry's bedroom. _Mr. Dursley!_ Tense and anxious, she watched as Ron, Fred and George dove for Harry and started pulling, and listened as Mr. Dursley shouted angrily, until finally Harry slid into car.

"Put your foot down, Fred!" Ron urged, and the car took off into the sky.

Jubilant, Harry stuck his head out of the window and shouted cheekily, "See you next summer!" to everyone's great amusement. "Let Hedwig out," he suggested. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had the chance to stretch her wings for ages."

George passed a hairpin back to Cathie, who reached up, unlocked the cage, and opened it, allowing Hedwig to dart out of the cage and out of the window to fly right next to the car.

"So - what's the story, Harry?" Ron demanded impatiently. "Doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with - "

"I told you, I didn't - "

"Um," Cathie interrupted. They both looked at her questioningly. "Mind moving the cage? It's a bit awkward down here."

"Right, sorry." Ron lifted the cage and set it on the floor next to her, allowing her to rise and reclaim her seat.

"Anyway, like I said, I wasn't the one who used the spell. It was a - what'd he say he was - a house-elf?"

"A _house-elf_?" the rest of them echoed.

"Yes, a house-elf named Dobby. See, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were having this fancy dinner with someone important, so they sent me upstairs to pretend I didn't exist, only then Dobby popped into my room and started telling me how someone was planning something horrible at Hogwarts this year. Wouldn't tell me who it was - every time he got close, he would bang his head on something repeatedly until I got him to stop. He was trying to convince me to just stay with the Dursleys all summer so that I wouldn't get hurt when I go back to Hogwarts - apparently he's even been stealing all the letters I've been sent over the summer so that I wouldn't have a _reason_ to go back, but anything's better than the Dursleys so that would never have worked. Anyway, I kept trying to get him to tell me what 'horrible things' were going to happen, but he wouldn't tell me. Finally, because I wouldn't agree not to go to Hogwarts, he went downstairs and levitated a pudding above the head of one of the guests and dropped it, making it look like I did it. Now the Ministry thinks I did it."

Everyone was stunned into silence by the bizarre tale. Cathie was unnerved, to say the least. She wondered, just for a moment, if perhaps she should consider homeschooling for a year via tutor - she had read about it under the _Education_ chapter of _Magical Moral Perspective_ , some students did that rather than attend a boarding school. However, she decided immediately that whatever the cost, there was no way she could go back to her old life, even just for a year, and more than that, she had to be there for Neville and Daphne and her other friends when whatever horrible things happened. She felt ashamed of herself for considering it.

Eventually, Fred broke the silence with, "Very fishy," and George concurred with, "Definitely dodgy. So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," Harry explained. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he starting banging his head against the wall."

Fred and George exchanged looks, and at once Cathie thought, _Oh_. Now she just felt foolish.

Harry noticed, too. "What, you think he was lying to me?"

Fred hesitated. "Well, put it this way - house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," the three first-years chorused.

"Remember that kid I caught your attention by pranking all day?" Cathie reminded them. "His name's Draco Malfoy, and he hates Harry with a burning passion."

"Draco Malfoy?" George echoed. He twisted in his seat to face them, mild surprise expressed on his face. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Must be," Harry inferred, "it's not a very common name, is it? Why?"

"I've heard Dad talking about him." George frowned. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," Fred added, glancing over his shoulder at them, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."

Cathie blinked in surprise. "Wait, what did he mean, he never meant any of it?" she inquired. "How do you run around killing people and just not mean it?"

"A lot of people were being forced to kill people by You-Know-Who," Ron contributed. "So some people who really did mean it lied that they had also been forced. You know, Harry, the Malfoys _must_ have a house-elf - rich and pureblood? They're definitely the type."

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," George mused. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."

They got to talking about their pet owl, Errol, and then their brother Percy, and as George said something polishing prefect badges, Cathie found her jaws stretching wide of their own accord to release a yawn. Before she quite knew what was happening, she drifted to sleep.

* * *

When she awoke, the car was landing gently on the ground, and Fred was exclaiming cheerfully, "Touchdown!"

Cathie rubbed her eyes and blinked rapidly a few times to clear the sleepiness from them, at least somewhat. She stretched and looked around. They were in a small yard, beside a very weathered garage, and before them was a very tall, oddly lopsided home, looking as though someone had taken the first floor and piled more floors atop it in awkward, precarious positions.

"It's not much," Ron admitted.

"It's _wonderful_ ," Harry disagreed, grinning.

"Pretty cool-looking," Cathie put in. She shrugged. "A house is a house, really. It's the people who live there that make the difference."

They exited the car, and Cathie realized suddenly how late - er, _early_ it was. The sun had already begun to rise.

Fred launched into a plan to get away with their actions that night, but it was made fruitless when Cathie spotted a plump, red-haired woman who was clearly their mother leave the house and storm over, her face murderous.

"Ah," Fred commented eloquently.

"Oh, dear," George murmured, clearly bracing himself.

She reached them, and eyed her sons through narrowed eyes. " _So_."

"Morning, Mum," George greeted her cheerfully, and Cathie resisted bursting into hysterical laughter.

"Have you had any idea how worried I've been?" she hissed, her voice dangerously quiet.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to - "

" _Beds empty_!" she snarled, and despite the distinctive height difference in their favor she still managed to tower over them. " _No note! Car gone - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy - "_

"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered, and Cathie winced before his mother even responded.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" She forcefully prodded Fred's chest. "You could have _died_ , you could have been _seen_ , you could have lost your father his _job - "_ She ranted and raved for what seemed like hours, especially to Cathie's gradually slipping eyelids and empty stomach. When she seemed to be satisfied, she turned to face Cathie and Harry. "I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear. And - I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met?"

"No - sorry - my name is Cathie McGinley, ma'am."

"Oh, of course, they told me about you - I'm Mrs. Weasley." Her eyes narrowed again. "They didn't kidnap you too, did they?"

"No, no, they didn't, don't worry," Cathie assured her before she could shout at them again. "My mom said it was alright."

"Well, that's alright, then. Come on in, you two, and have some breakfast, I'm sure you're both starving..."

Well, that was half of Cathie's current dilemma gone. She eagerly followed Mrs. Weasley into the house, and after watching Harry sit down, she hesitantly sat next to him, fighting not to fall asleep in her seat. Ron took the seat on his other side, and George sat down on her other side with Fred next to him. Mrs. Weasley continued to rage at Ron, Fred and George, albeit in a milder manner than before, and try as she might Cathie could not keep her eyes open for the life of her. George had to poke her awake when food was served.

"Thanks," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes again and stifling another yawn. She blinked at the food before her. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she called politely. "This looks absolutely delicious."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her before scolding her children some more.

Ravenous, Cathie ate with as much restraint and class as she could manage, unsure of how important manners were considered in the Weasley home. She finished soon enough, although not before Ron, and waited for the rest to finish too, hoping Harry might ask where they were sleeping so that she wouldn't have to.

" _Blimey_ , I'm tired," Fred yawned, and Cathie looked over through half-lidded eyes to see that he was finished, and George was very close. "I think I'll go to bed and - "

"You will _not_ ," Mrs. Weasley corrected him sharply. Cathie winced, feeling bad for them. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again - "

"Oh, Mum - "

"And you two," she added, glaring at Ron and George. "You can go up to bed, dears," she reassured Harry and Cathie. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car - "

"I'll help Ron," Harry interjected immediately, and Cathie glanced at him to see that he was perfectly bright-eyed and energized. "I've never seen a de-gnoming - "

"I'll help, too," Cathie offered, feeling it would be rather rude to go to sleep while her hosts worked. She made the least-sleepy expression she could manage.

It didn't work. Everyone burst into laughter. Even Mrs. Weasley chuckled, looking at her kindly. "Cathie, dear, you were practically sleeping while you ate. It's quite alright, you can go up to sleep. Ron, why don't you show her to her room?"

Cathie could muster no further protest, and she gathered her things before Ron led her away from the table and down a narrow hallway. At the end was a slightly lopsided staircase, which rather suited the house, Cathie thought, and they followed it up its fluctuating path until they reached the first landing, on which Ron walked up to a closed door and knocked. No one answered. Frowning, Ron knocked again, but there was still no answer. "Hang on a second," he said, and continued up the staircase. Cathie leaned against the door, and a few seconds later, Ron returned with a small, red-headed, freckled girl.

"Hello, you must be Cathie," she greeted. "I'm Ginny - Ron's little sister. It's nice to meet you."

"Uh, you too," Cathie responded.

"Here, come on in - this is where you'll be sleeping." She opened the door and stepped inside. Cathie turned to say goodbye to Ron, but he had already vanished. Shrugging, she followed Ginny. It was a relatively small room, but not too small. There was a large window that offered a beautiful view, and the walls were heavily accented with posters of a group of guys, probably in their early twenties, who Cathie thought might be a band, as well as a young woman donning dark green robes and Quidditch gear, equipped with a Beater's bat and broomstick in most posters. There was also a dresser and two beds on either side of the room, both adorned with very plain bedding. "I love your room," Cathie told Ginny, moving forward to look out the window. "It has lots of personality."

"Thanks!"

Now, she could see that the view was even better up close. There was a very pretty orchard down below, and Cathie spotted Fred, George, Ron, and Harry doing - er - she had no clue. Too tired to really care, she turned to Ginny and asked, "Which bed is mine?"

"The one over there." Ginny pointed to the bed behind Cathie.

Cathie set her things down beside the bed and sat on it. "I should probably brush my teeth and change into my pajamas before bed, but I'm _exhausted_ ," Cathie yawned.

"I bet you are - I can only imagine how long the five of you were driving." Ginny knelt down beside Ninja's cage. "You have a gorgeous cat - may I let her out?"

"Oh, yeah! Thanks for reminding me - I'm sure she'd appreciate that - " Cathie went through her things until she found Ninja's dish and food. She set the dish down near Ninja's cage as Ginny opened it, and Ninja shot out like a bullet. Cathie filled half of the dish with food, which Ninja fell on with great gusto. Cathie looked at Ginny. "Um, could you tell me where your bathroom is please? I need to give her water."

"Oh, let me do it," Ginny insisted. "You go to bed - you look like you'd fall asleep on the way."

"Thank you," Cathie agreed, flushing.

"No problem." Ginny managed to get the dish away from Ninja and carried it out of the room. Cathie climbed into bed, and with Ninja immediately curling up on her stomach, she fell asleep.


End file.
